WHEN I GROW UP WHAT SHOULD I BE?
I told my mom. "I know it. Still, I want to be a poet. Is it a crime to think in rhyme, to write of love and stars above, to rail against hypocrisy and defy phony democracy, to wax poetic and be sympathetic to each heretic who defies the Constitution and calls for revolution?"
My dad had a different view. "Be a politician," he said. "Doctors are a bunch of fakes. People die from their mistakes. All they do is give a pill, then send a bill for God knows what and who knows why. They won't let you die until you pay their lousy fee. Say it's unfair? Take your gripes to Medicare.
"Better yet, go into politics. They know every dirty trick that makes big bucks quick. These leeches make speeches about honesty, integrity, democracy. the good old red, white and blue while doing all they can to screw the voter legally. Politics is the place to be."
"Why not be a CPA," my sister said. "They make good pay helping you steal from the USA and Uncle Sam doesn't give a damn if you make money off the books like other crooks. And if they commit big time crIme they know they'll never do the time."
No doubt, I had a lot to think about. But in my working days to come, I think I'll just be a bum.